


fast and go

by woodlands



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Running, madi trains for a marathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:59:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26971015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodlands/pseuds/woodlands
Summary: It’s a hot day for a run, but Madi’s doing it anyway.
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw & Madi, Julius & Madi (Black Sails), Madi/John Silver
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	fast and go

**Author's Note:**

> a fill for a prompt on tumblr from asterofthevoid: Madi + tenacity
> 
> title from apeshit by the carters which is a staple of every running playlist i make :)

It’s too hot today for this. Heat shimmers off the pavement and presses into her from all sides. The buzz-saw whine of cicadas is so loud it cuts through her headphones, a constant beneath the beat of the music, mingling with the muffled sound of her breathing as she moves. 

Two more miles to go. 

It’s a mid-length run today, ten miles, but it feels like she’s already done twelve. She’s stopped wiping the sweat from her face unless it gets into her eyes. Not for the first time this morning, she wants to kick herself for not getting started earlier, before the sun made it all the way up into the sky, when there was still a little of the night’s coolness to cling to. 

Julius had called, that was part of it. The surprise of his name on her caller ID. He’d wanted to discuss the Bronzes. He’d sounded, through the speaker, like he’d been awake for hours. 

John had rolled away from her, taking her pillow with him, clamping it down over his head to muffle the sound of the phone call. She’d poked a finger into the sensitive skin below his armpit, just to watch him squirm. Then she’d set her book on the bedside table and walked out to the kitchen, Julius still in her ear. 

“It’s patronizing,” he’d repeated, and she’d hummed in agreement while rooting around in the fridge for the cold brew coffee John had made last night, “It’s obvious to everyone with eyes. A loan implies property. It denies the facts.”

“I agree with you. The trouble is how to get _Rogers_ to agree with you.”

After they’d hung up she’d spent a few hours researching the new department head before finally pushing the laptop across the table and rolling her eyes at John, who’d finally surfaced, looking bleary and rumpled. “I’m going for a run,” she’d told him, and he’d reeled her in for a warm, sleepy kiss. 

“Must you?” he’d murmured into her mouth, and she’d pulled away, annoyed—but he’d smiled and kissed her cheek and said, “I’ll be here when you get back.” 

A woman zips by on a bike, close enough to pull Madi back to the present. 

She focuses on her breathing, inhaling deeply to fill her lungs, exhaling as slowly as she can. Her feet hit the pavement and then set sail again, over and over and over. Some days, it’s so easy. Other days, like today, it’s like wading through mud. 

But there’s something satisfying about pushing herself like this. Knowing, at the end of the run, that no matter how tempting the siren call of slowing to a walk or simply not leaving the house in the first place may have been, she’d had it in her to resist it. 

Turning the corner onto Main Street, she lets the sight of the apartment in the distance wash over her. Less than a mile to go.

Flint’s sitting on the step of his building when she comes down to a walk in front of it. Lucius, the stray tabby he and Thomas have been feeding, watches her disdainfully from his perch two steps up. “Morning,” Flint says, climbing to his feet to join her in her cool down, a gradually descending pace the rest of the way home. He’s still in his pajama pants, despite the heat. 

She pulls the headphones out of her ears as he falls into step beside her, Lucius a shadow behind him. “Good morning, Flint.” Her breath is evening out much quicker than it did after Thursday’s run, but there’s an ache in her knee that feels a little worrying. This close to race day, she’d have a hard time bringing herself to cut training short for an injury like runner’s knee.

She would, of course. John occasionally needs to see someone choose their physical health over their ambitions. And she’s run through the pain before—so she knows how long that recovery takes. 

She smiles at Flint, who squints back. He looks tired. “Silver at home?” he asks.

“He is. He might have gone back to sleep. I think he was looking forward to a lazy Saturday morning.”

“No such thing for you, is there?”

She wants to say, _maybe after the marathon_ , or, _maybe when work calms down_. But Flint’s right, as usual. She’s not built to sit on her laurels. 

The little house she rents with John is at the top of a steep incline. They chose it specifically for its view of the sea and its single level, which makes things easier for John. Neither of them mind the hike up from town (John complains, but it gets him out of carrying the groceries). Today, however, the hill looks steeper and taller than usual, the heat shimmering off the asphalt. 

But she’s looking forward to getting back. John will look disappointed for a split second to see she’s not alone, before he’ll perk up. “Coffee, Flint?” he’ll say, and then, “Or is it too early to smoke a bowl?” 

“Yes,” Flint and Madi will say simultaneously, and John will smile fondly at them and will probably pack one anyway. If Lucius sticks with them the whole way there, John will probably make a show of offering him the bowl until Flint scoops the cat up and deposits him outside, to the vocal complaints of Lucius and John both. 

Lunch to look forward to, after stretching and a shower, and a call back to Julius. John at the sink washing the dishes and Flint next to him, drying. Perhaps he’ll stay through the afternoon; perhaps Thomas will come by for dinner. He’s working on a paper for the Institute she’d like to hear more about. 

But for now, it’s one foot in front of the other as she climbs the hill with Flint, her tired muscles straining. The hot sun like fire on the back of her neck. The sense that, at least today, it’s all going to work out fine. 

**Author's Note:**

> as always, comments are much appreciated!


End file.
